First Kiss
by Sophie-U.F
Summary: Hetalia x Reader
1. England

The night was warm in the middle of the Summer in London, the british capital. The lights illuminated the city, bringing out it's beauty; the Big Ben, the London Eye, the Tower of London, the Buckingham Palace...  
The streets weren't full, the tourists mainly occupied the pubs and such at this time, most of the people out were locals or seemed to be.  
Across the gardens that stood by the river, a young looking couple walked with their hands tightly linked. In all honesty, they were not that young, personifications, countries, immortal beings was what they really were, but that was not what people recognised them as; just another young couple enjoying their youth and the love it brought.

"This really is beautiful, Arthur!" commented the girl, scooting closer to said male.  
"Yes, and the weather is pleasant, I couldn't have requested for a better night to spend with you!" he stated, smiling down at her.  
"Me neither..."  
The themes of conversation came one after the other, until, tired, the two decided to sit down on a bench turned to the large course of water. Silence fell upon them, a comfortable one, as (country) laid her head on the brit's arm, the same arm that circled her waist and securely held her against him.  
The weather really was pleasant; the lack of clouds in the sky allowed the sight of the many stars and constellations of the season, the silence of the humans allowed them to hear the cicadas and crickets, and the company of one another allowed a relaxation that was not usual. Even so, the night would have a final event before they parted that would turn it indeed in the perfect night.  
It was late when Arthur and (f/n) returned to his house, where she was staying during her visit. The (nationality) was about to leave for her room, but the englishman stopped her; she turned back to face him once again.  
"Is there something wrong, Arthur?" she asked, curiously looking up at him.  
"I..." he didn't speak any further; his eyes were half-lidded and his pupils travelled from her eyes to her lips and back up, signalling his intent, as his hand travelled up from holding her own to caress her chin. His palm finally came to rest on her cheek.  
Unconsciously, the girl leaned into that touch, placing her hand upon his.  
Slowly, he leaned down, their lips almost touching.  
"I want to give something..." he whispered, finally connecting his lips to hers in a gentle, caring, sweet kiss. Their muscles moved in unison; her hand dropped from his to find support on his hip as her other hand moved up to slightly grasp his jacket, his hand moved to circle her waist to keep her close while his other hand remained to cup her face.  
He didn't try to go any further away from the simple yet passionate kiss, he acted with reservation and she knew why; due to his moments and history, he was afraid of letting himself get carried away during what was actually their first kiss.  
Even so, they couldn't have asked for a better night...


	2. Italy

An italian restaurant, it may seem a little cliché, something brought of one of those typical and cheesy romances, but Feliciano Vargas, who also went by the name of North Italy or Veneziano, had an idea to turn this small predictable date into a surprisingly different one.  
As you might guess by now, Italy had lured her beloved (f/n), or (country) if you prefer, to one of the most prestigious italian restaurant in Venice for their dinner-date.  
The place was gorgeous, decorated with vine leaves and grapes, the environment was rather decent, the tables and benches were made of carved wood; it almost made them jump back in time...  
While (country) went to the bathroom, the bubbly italian made use of the opportunity to slip into the kitchen to have a word with the chef. A little of persuasion and a plea for the chef's help offering the girl he most loved the most wonderful date he could provide her with were enough for the older-looking italian to agree to do whatever he could to help.  
Feliciano had found the (nationality) looking around for him once he returned to the main room. Excitedly, he pulled her along to the back of the building.  
Once in the kitchen, he explained how he had convinced the chef to let them cook something themselves; the cooks had provided them with a good share of ingredients, ingredients used to cook pasta and pizza.  
Feliciano was more than entertained explaining the steps and guiding her through the preparation of both plates; (f/n) was having her own fun, enjoying to see the italian like this and herself was entertained with the cooking. A little later though, a bit of flour escaped Italy's hands and covered the girl's (h/c) hair; a small food fight began between the two. Tomato sauce, flour, bread, among others covered the floor on a certain corner of the kitchen; laughter was a constant at the moment. Italy had tried for a run to cover her cheek with sauce, but he failed to pay attention to the floor, ending up slipping on a spot of sauce himself. He lost balance and fell on top of (f/n), dragging her towards the messy floor along with him.  
"Ve~ (f/n) are-a you okay?" he asked worriedly.  
"I-I'm fine, Feli, don't worry..." she muttered, shifting uncomfortably as he helped her up.  
The italian's eyes opened, gazing directly into hers as he approached her. Out of the nowhere he said:  
"Ti amo, molto, molto!" before he pecked her lips, tightly holding her hands with his.  
"I-I love you too!" she stuttered, a heavy blush well-present on her expression.  
"But we haven't-a even had our first-a kiss..." he mused.  
"What do you mean?" she asked. "We just did!"  
"No, a real-a kiss!" he declared seriously.  
"And what do you consider a real kiss?" she inquired, frankly curious at his unusually serious self.  
"I don't-a know how to-a explain, but-a I can-a show you, if you-a want-a!" he blurted, suddenly descending his head so they were right face-to-face.  
"I-I guess you can..." she nodded, her voice strained because of the embarrassment she felt.  
During the next moments, she only did as she was instructed: 'close your eyes and don't peek'. She felt her chin being tilted up before the feeling of something soft being placed on top of her lips occupied her mind. She followed his lead, their lips moved in unison; after a while, he nibbled on his lips and soon the permission was conceded. He deepened the kiss at every passing second, revealing an unexpected amount of passion and skill; he held her close, his arms tightly circling her smaller form, her hands had found their way up to tangle themselves on his short brown hair.  
Almost a minute passed before they parted, arfing, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths, their gazes lovingly locked together, their forms tightly linked.  
And this had been the best date they could have had...


	3. Prussia

They had agreed for a film, 'Cinderella'. Most people don't know, but Disney based the film on a traditional german fairy tale, one of the tales Gilbert used to tell Ludwig when he was little; the prussian was eager to see what they had done with a story that made him travel back in time. Fortunately, the old nation of (country) was also excited, having heard good critics from others. So, the two had come to an agreement, they would go to see it on their next date; and so they did.  
The film was a beautiful romance, (f/n) twirled around as they exited the building, still marvelled at the story, mainly the scene of the ball that brought back to her so many wonderful and pleasant memories.  
"Oh, I remember the old times when we had balls like those all the time!" she said, her eyes shining like the small stars that here and there started to spot the darkening sky.  
"You really liked zhem, didn't you?" chuckled Prussia, slightly tightening the grip he had on her hand.  
"Yes, especially Roderich's, he had always the best parties and music and dances, but I also remember England's and Portugal's and Spain's and France's and Italy's and... so many others!" she half-sang, using his hand as an axis for her to twirl one more time. "Those balls were just like the one from the film..."  
"Vhat do you mean?" he asked; of course they were, they all were typical events for the noble, but it didn't seem that that was what she was comparing.  
"...brought out of a fairy tale..." she clarified, taking her hand to support on his arm along with her head while her other hand remained linked to his own.  
On the way back to the house they both shared with Germany, the themes of conversation never strayed far from the memories they still had from the clothes, traditions and events of the old days. It didn't take long for them to arrive; Germany wasn't home, he probably hadn't returned yet from his meeting with Italy, Romano and Japan.  
(F/n) went to put the coats on place before returning to the living room... While she was upstairs, the albino rushed to free some space in the room, pushing sofas and tables aside and placed a CD in the player before stuffing the control into one of his pockets.

(Country) reentered the division...  
"Mein princess, vould you give zhis humble servant of yours zhe honour of zhis dance?" he asked, performing an elaborated bow and courteously offering his hand for her to take. He was determined to relive those old memories with her, now...  
"But... we don't have any music..." she murmured.  
"Please don't underestimate me, liebe!" he requested, pressing a button without her notice.  
The familiar sound of a waltz filled the air.  
"Now, vould you, princess?" he asked again, never having left his initial position.  
"Of course... my lord!" she giggled, placing her hand on his.  
He gently pulled her closer, his other hand travelling to the small of her back while hers found it's way to the top of his arm.  
They twirled around, together , always following the rhythm the music dictated. Intricate steps, complex swirls, ruled bows composed the dance, nothing was forgotten as the memories refilled their minds.  
The music stopped and so did they. With a smile, he brought her hand up and rested a soft kiss on it's back. He then let her hand fall, taking his own to caress the side of her face and brush her hair behind her ear, his fingers then moved down to rest on her jaw and tilt her chin up. A light blush covered her cheeks as he slowly leaned down.  
Mere millimeters away, he dared to ask:  
"May I?"  
"Yes..." she softly whispered in response.  
His lips feathery brushed hers before he finally brought her into a kiss, their first one.  
The best memory revival she had taken part of so far; not only had he made her relive those wonderful times, he had also found a way to brighten those memories even more.


	4. Russia

The day was wonderful; the sky was clear, the weather was warm and the sun shone bright. Hard as it may be to believe, sunflowers covered vast plains across the cold country known as Russia, providing large spots of green and yellow across the terrains.  
Russia, Ivan, had always loved those flowers, big and warm, he identified himself with them; they were his bestfriends and his escape.  
On this day, he had come to one of those fields, one that was near his house, with the company of his beloved (f/n), aka (country). When everyone ran away from him, she had made an effort to get to know the broken nation better, she had tried to understand him and she had successfully managed to do so; the two had been drawn together and had eventually accept it.  
Now, today, the two lazily laid together by the flower field; sitting on the picnic blanket, Russia had his back leaned against a tree trunk, (country) sat on his lap, her chest supported on his chest as the male's arms held her body close to his. For endless hours they talked, joked and laughed freely, no one was there to judge them like it usually happened, they were free to be themselves together and without restraints. They walked together, across the enormous flowers, with their hands linked, signalling their bond.  
After a while they stopped, right at the center of the field and, slowly, Ivan leaned in, softly bumping his forehead to hers. His eyes lingered on her lips; he was nervous, afraid such a gesture would scare her away, afraid he would scare her away if he tried for their first kiss too abruptly, and so he shyly asked:  
"Sunflower... may I kiss you now?"  
"Da!" she answered with a sweet smile and a light blush, making use of his language to give the confirmation.  
He smiled and softly pressed his lips to hers, calmly, avoiding any kind of rush. Her eyelids fluttered together, as did his, as his arm moved to hold her close, her hands clutched the sides of his long coat; their lips moved in synchrony. He was careful and took things slow. Softly he nibbled on her bottom lip and the entering permission was willingly conceded.  
The faint flavour of vodka invaded her palate.  
Mere seconds had passed instead of the long minute it had appeared when they parted. Their foreheads had once again been joined in place of their lips; sweet, loving smiles spread across their faces.  
"Ya lyublyu tebya, sunflower!" he stated, pecking her lips one more time.  
"I love you too, teddy bear...!" she giggled, returning his small act of affection with a peck of her own on the tip of his nose.  
There, on the field, they remained in eachother's warm embrace until it was time to return.


	5. America

The house was a mess, there was no doubt about that. One would hope that the american personification would clean and organize his home before his girlfriend came over to spend the time with him, and he did in fact, but all the food and drinks he had brought to the living room returned the division it's messy aspect. Pizzas, hamburgers, chips, juices, everything just put around the sofa and small tables.  
(F/n), aka (country), didn't mind, she knew how he was and that, even though it sometimes didn't appear that way, he only meant well.  
She came to spend the afternoon, and the afternoon they spent together. The hours passed among romantic films, adventure films, action films, comedy films; they played around pretending to be characters; they built a blanket and pillow fortress; it was perfect, they acted almost like highschool students and honestly couldn't be any more entertained than they already were. They talked about villains, heros and commented on relationships between characters.  
While Alfred tried to jump around like Spiderman, he ended up tripping, he fell into the (nationality), the two twirled around on the ground; when they stopped rolling, (f/n) was laying on top of Alfred.  
"Hey, dudette, you okay?" he called out, gazing at the girl shrinked on top of him.  
"Yes, I'm fine!" she nodded, blinking her eyes open as she realised their position.  
Alfred was laid back on the ground, she was laying on top of him, his arms securely circled her waist, her palms were firmly placed on his chest, their faces were nearly leveled, her hair cascaded downwards framing her face. A light blush covered her cheeks as America absently began to play with her tresses, twirling her hair around his fingers. They were already close, so close they could feel eachother's breaths...  
Slowly, almost unnoticeably, his fingers started to climb, always playing with the (h/c) tresses; slowly, almost unnoticeably, (f/n) started to lower her head, following the rhythm his hand dictated; until he finally reached the back of her head. Softly, he pushed her further down, causing their lips to finally meet in what was now their first kiss. Alfred forced one more rolling so that he was the one on top, his hand abandoned her waist to support part of his weight on the floor, while his other hand still played with her tresses and occasionally moved to caress her cheek, chin or neck. Gently he asked for an opening which was quick and willingly conceded; from the kiss, she could feel the faint flavour of the hamburgers he loved so much. Sometime during the sweet trade his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose; a smile found it's way to his lips, a smile that she could not see but feel through the kiss.  
The air was becoming scarce and, panting, they had to part. With a soft smile, he looked down lovingly at her and nuzzled his nose to hers.  
"I love you, you know that?"  
"I love you too, my silly american!"


End file.
